


Alae Ignis

by TheRedJaybird



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dragons, Dragons are the power the Dark Lord Knows Not, F/M, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, R Plus L Equals J, Robert Finds Lyanna First, i suck at summaries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24213898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedJaybird/pseuds/TheRedJaybird
Summary: A boy is born in the Tower of Joy as war rages on and the Targaryen dynasty is overthrown. Robert finds Lyanna at the Tower as she draws her last breath, telling him her son was his. Robert doubts that the child is his, and the doubt is only strengthened by the child’s indigo eyes. However, the child has Baratheon black hair, so he vows only to get rid of the child after he produces another heir with his new queen Cersei.Alternatively Titled: Harry Potter grows up in Westeros, and it makes all the difference
Relationships: Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Robert Baratheon/Cersei Lannister
Kudos: 39





	Alae Ignis

**Author's Note:**

> Found this in my notes, halfway written. I don't remember what I originally intended to write, but I guess we'll go from here. I also haven't read any of George R.R. Martin's books in two years and HP books in three years, give or take. I only remember vague details and I'm too lazy to research stuff in depth. So if you're a die-hard HP or GOT fan, sorry for messing up some details. I also don't have a beta reader other than Grammarly, so don't judge me.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

“Are you decent, Ned?” Lyanna’s muffled voice carried through the door of Eddard Stark’s chambers.

Eddard, or Ned as he was called by his friends and family, looked up from where he was staring broodingly out the window, a feeling of dread creeping into his mind. “I am, Lyanna.”

“Good!” The door slammed open as Lyanna stormed into the room, grey eyes blazing with fury. “Baratheon? I’m to marry him? ” Lyanna stomped up to her brother, “He’s a brainless slob of a whoremonger that only thinks with his dick! He is the same age as you and already has ten bastards! ”

Ned took a step back, raising his hands in an effort to placate his furious sister.

“Please, Lyanna. Robert is a good man, and with Aerys getting increasingly unstable, not even the great houses are safe.“ Ned sighed, “House Baratheon is a powerful ally.”

“Why don’t you marry him then? He’s your best friend, isn’t he?” Lyanna threw her hands in the air in frustration. She began pacing to and fro in front of the fireplace. “Does father suspect what I did at the Harrenhal Tourney?” The memory of beautiful indigo eyes floated into the forefront of her mind before she quickly squashed it down.

“Nobody knows, Lyanna.” Ned was quick to assure his only sister.

“Ned, please.” Lyanna grabbed Ned’s shoulder, “You must talk some sense into Father. I cannot wed him!”

“I will try, Lyanna.” Ned solemnly promised.

Lyanna huffed and stormed back out of the room, slamming the door as she went; Ned knew she was likely headed to the Godswood to blow off some steam, whether by talking to the Old Gods or by practicing her sword. Ned sighed, mournfully glancing back out the window; he had been in the middle of watching a very interesting confrontation between a woman and a blacksmith when Lyanna had barged in, and the woman had long since disappeared. Well, better now than never, he thought to himself. And I promised Lyanna. Ned walked out his chambers and headed towards his father’s study. He already knew that this venture was likely ill-fated. When Lord Rickard made a decision, not even a wild boar could make him turn away from it.

“Father?” He called from outside the study. “It’s Ned.” A muffled “enter” sounded from the study, and Ned pushed open the heavy wooden doors. Lord Rickard was seated behind his desk, a small mountain of paperwork on each side of the table. His brow was furrowed as his quill scribbled furiously on a piece of parchment, not even looking up when his son entered the room.

“Yes, Eddard? I’ll have you know that I am rather pre-occupied.” Rickard picked up the sheet he was writing on, blowing on it softly to dry the ink before setting it on the stack of paperwork on the left. He drew a new sheet of parchment, dipped his quill in ink, and once again began writing. Ned cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Father, it’s about Lyanna and Robert.” Rickard paused in his writing, sighing deeply before setting the quill aside and looking back up at Ned.

“First Lyanna, then Brandon, and now you. Why have I raised such disobedient children? I am not sentencing Lyanna to her death. Robert Baratheon is your friend, is he not? Do you not trust his character? I had thought you would be happy to see your good friend marrying your sister. He, for one, seemed overjoyed when he was told of the engagement.”

“Robert is a good man, Father, but his heart strays often. Lyanna is a free soul, and she would hate being trapped in a loveless marriage. Father, please declare the engagement null,” Ned pleaded. “She does not love him at all.”

“Marriages are for political alliances, Ned, not love,” Rickard replied curtly. “Your mother and I did not marry for love, but love has formed. At the very least, I trust that you will ensure that Baratheon treats Lyanna with respect and care.”

“But Father-“ Ned stepped forward.

“I will hear no more of this, Eddard.” Lord Rickard held up a hand, indicating for silence. He glared at his second-born. “My patience wears thin, and I have no more time for discussions of love when the seven kingdoms themselves are rustling in unrest. These are perilous times. We must forge new alliances, and some of these alliances must be sealed in matrimony. Brandon will marry Catelyn Tully, and Lyanna will marry Robert Baratheon.”

Ned stepped back, clenching his jaw and staring at the ground.

“You and Benjen are lucky, Ned.”Rickard sighed, eyes softening, “As the second and third sons, you enjoy a much higher level of freedom. Brandon and Lyanna are responsible to uphold alliances. The Great Houses have intermarried with each other for centuries and will continue doing so for centuries to come.”

Rickard drew the quill back from the inkwell and turned back to his work. “She will marry. And that is my final word.”

…

The news of the wedding between two great houses swept through Westeros.

Rhaegar stared at the invitation in his hands. Lyanna Stark was to wed Robert Baratheon.

It was addressed to his Father, but the King had not left the Red Keep in years. If he had, the state of his long yellow fingernails, tangled beard, and ropes of unwashed, matted hair would have made his madness plain to all. Nor was his behavior that of a sane man; for in the blink of an eye, he could go from hysterical laughter to weeping to rage.

Aerys was ill again, and would likely not recover before the next turn of the moon given the amount of the milk of the poppy the maester was giving him. Before then, the burden of the Seven Kingdoms was on his shoulders as the crown prince.

Rheagar stared out the window at the streets of King’s Landing. He remembered the dancing grey eyes and the strength of the Knight of the Laughing Tree at the Harrenhal Tourney. He remembered how the eerily similar grey eyes of Lyanna Stark stared at him in surprise as he rode past Elia and crowned her the Queen of Love and Beauty instead.

“Yes, I will attend.” Rhaegar murmured to himself. Lord Tywin would not object to taking over the duties of the kingdom just for a fortnight.

..

“In the sight of the gods, old and new, we are gathered here today to witness and bless the exchange of vows that will bind Lyanna Stark and Robert Baratheon together in the covenant relationship of marriage…” The septon droned on in front of the bride and groom. Towering statues of the seven loomed behind him. Lyanna became all the more aware of the countless pairs of eyes behind her, staring at her every move.

Lyanna scowled. Her soon to be husband had insisted on a Southern wedding, vastly different from the weddings of the North. So not only was she to be married against her will, she would not be married in front of the weirwood tree in the godswood. Her maiden’s cloak, draped across her shoulders, was lovingly embroidered by their lady mother with the direwolf rampant. The grey and white contrasted sharply with the yellow cloak of Robert Baratheon.

“…and you shall vow to forever protect and cherish she who has been passed from her father’s protection to yours…”

Lord Rickard stepped forwards and unclasped Lyanna’s cloak. Robert stepped forwards, his own cloak in his hands. As he flung the cloak around her shoulders, Lyanna stared coldly at the ground, no sign of the normal joy a woman would have at her own marriage on her face. Suddenly, Robert’s hands were on her own. Lyanna was highly tempted to pull her hands away from the meaty masses of her soon to be husband’s. “With this kiss, I pledge my love and take you as my lady and wife. ” Robert smiled at her.

Lyanna looked out at the audience instead, stifling a gasp at the indigo eyes and silver hair of the crown prince in the front row. How had she not noticed the _prince?_ She had not expected to see him ever again after the Harrenhal Tourney. She had greatly enjoyed her conversations with the prince, who had told her to call him Rhaegar. Rhaegar understood her in a way that nobody else ever had, but that was all in the past now. Now, she had to marry Robert Baratheon and fulfill her duty as the eldest and only daughter of House Stark.

After a silence that seemed way too long to not be deliberate, Lyanna responded reluctantly. “With this kiss, I pledge my…love, and take you for my lord and husband.” A flash of hurt appeared across the handsome face of Robert Baratheon at the implied rejection of his beloved as he lowered his head down and kissed her gently.

The septon continued on, seemingly ignorant of the awkwardness. “I now declare them to be man and wife, one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”

The wedding ended uneventfully, despite the little mishap in the middle. Robert now was socializing with the many gifts, laughing uproariously at something a Lord had just said before taking another huge gulp of whatever was in his goblet. He was in high spirits, that much was obvious. Lyanna stood towards the side of the great hall, drinking her wine slowly. How she yearned to be riding her horse through the woods or to feel the adrenaline rush that came with her sword clashing against another’s. She would likely never feel that again. Her role had changed from a maiden girl to a Lady of a Great House, and she was expected to behave in the same way. The direwolf would be muzzled and chained, her nails cut and her teeth sawed short. She would be trapped inside the Baratheon keep in the South, forced to be dainty and gentle, sitting and sewing new tapestries or whatever Ladies did these days. She would be expected to produce an heir, because even though Baratheon had his twenty-something bastards running around, he needed a highborn son as an heir. She feared that slowly, the direwolf in her would be worn away and die, replaced by just another Lady Wife. What a terrifying thought! But she had no choice.

Lyanna sighed and finished the rest of her wine. Glancing around, she did not see the prince, but rathera gaggle of Ladies heading towards her with the intention to either depart some experience or ask her how she felt. Lyanna quickly beat a retreat. “Ned, I am retiring to my chambers. ” She murmured in her brother’s ear. He glanced at her sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Lyanna. I’ll tell Robert and have him head up soon.” 

“Oh, no! That would be unnecessary.” She flashed a quick and fake smile. “He looks like he’s having a lot of fun. Just…let him be.” Ned pursued his lips but nodded his agreement. Lyanna was already halfway up the stairs. The wedding and subsequent reception were not in Winterfell, but rather in the Baratheon Keep. Lord Rickard had sent Ned to accompany her, with the reasoning that he was a good friend of Robert Baratheon and would make sure she was treated well in the transition period. Her new chamber was located in a tower towards the North, supposedly as a tribute to the fact that the new Lady was from the North.Pushing open the doors to her new chamber, she looked around. The room was large and well lit, the walls draped with tapestries depicting the glory of House Baratheon. Lyanna curled her lip in disgust; she much preferred the cool stone and grey wolf pelts of Winterfell. Sighing, she collapsed in bed. It felt foreign and uncomfortable, nothing like her bedroom in Winterfell. The bed was twice as large, though, Lyanna thought, trying to comfort herself. An unwelcome thought entered her mind: It was only so large because she would be sharing the room with Robert Baratheon, who would be coming upstairs and consummating her marriage at any moment.

She flopped on the bed in a very un-ladylike manner. “If only I was a man!” Lyanna said out loud to the empty room. “I could do whatever I wanted. I could go to a tourney without disguising myself, I could travel the seven kingdoms, I could even take the black! I could even make a bunch of bastards like Baratheon!” Her mood quickly soured at the thought of Baratheon. “Not that I would make any bastards. That would be horrible for the children, to be brought unwanted in the world and looked down upon for the rest of their lives.” 

Suddenly, the sound of loud talking drew near and she sat up quickly. It was Baratheon, she knew with cold certainty. And her fate would be sealed forever. The door slammed open, and in fell Baratheon, on his face. Several men behind him, all of which she did not recognize, laughed loudly. “Are you alright?” One asked. Baratheon stumbled to his feet. “I…I AM PERFECTLY FINE!” He turned around, and Lyanna saw with a dawning horror that he was drunk beyond his senses. “LYANNA! MY LOVE!” He shouted, stumbling towards the bed. Lyanna stood quickly, glaring at the men who were still watching at the door. “Do you expect us to put on a show for you, my Lords?” She asked them coldly. They looked taken aback at her tone. “If not, then leave me and Baratheon be.”

“Sorry, m’lady.” A man said, nudging his friends and telling them to back away. He shut the door, and then footsteps headed away. Just as Lyanna began to relax, strong arms wrapped around her waist, and the hot breath of a drunk touched her ear. “Lyanna, Lyanna! You are mine…hic….at last!” Baratheon mumbled in his ear. She struggled out of his arms. She had thought she could stomach it, but the idea of consummating her marriage with a drunkard was absolutely unbearable. She needed to delay some time, distract Baratheon if she did not want to be held down by the drunkard and mounted like a dog. Lyanna backed away, smiling at Baratheon. “M’Lord, how about we first eat some food? I was so nervous I could not eat, and the apples that the servants have provided look absolutely delectable.” She held up one of the admittedly very red apples that were on display on a small table. “The North is too cold to produce such fruits, even in the summers. As a result, I’ve only ever had apples when merchants from the South would bring them, and apples don’t keep very well.” She was rambling. 

Baratheon looked at her stupidly, perhaps not comprehending enough of her sentence to even make a response. Lyanna tried again. “Apple?” Baratheon grinned at her this time, before stumbling sideways and smashing his head against the bedpost. He fell to the ground. Lyanna gasped. She didn’t want to be married to Baratheon, but she also didn’t want her brother’s best friend to die in front of her. She knelt beside the man, putting a hand to his neck. He was alive. She backed away, sitting back down on the bed. What could she do? She couldn’t delay it forever. She was married now, and Baratheon was not a man to shy away from his desires. Well, the longer she could delay it the better, Lyanna thought to herself determinedly. She walked back up to Baratheon and began the difficult process of dragging him onto the bed. More than half an hour later, she had finally succeeded. Baratheon, the damned pig that he was, slept soundly through it all. She wiped her sweat away and walked to the window in an effort to cool herself down.

The window overlooked the garden, and then the forest beyond it. Thousands of miles west, beyond her reach, was her home. The rising moon caused everything to be tinted silver under its light. A particularly bright flash of silver from the woods distracted her. “What’s that?” She narrowed her eyes, trying to see clearly. It moved again, stepping into the light, and Lyanna stifled a gasp. It was Rhaegar. What on earth was he doing here? He glanced up towards the tower, and his eyes widened as they made eye contact. The beautiful shade of violet seemed to shine under the full moon. The prince hurriedly walked forward until he was nearly right under the tower. He looked up at her. “Lyanna!” Lyanna frowned. Was he saying something?“What did you say?” She shouted back down at him, furtively glancing back at the bed to ensure that Baratheon was still asleep. He was, and he had, in fact, started snoring.

Rhaegar seemed to realize that Lyanna could not hear him and instead began to mime motions at her. “A…rope?” She stared down at him. The prince then mimed climbing up something. The actions were ridiculous and dramatic, but Rhaegar still looked awe-strikingly handsome doing it. Suddenly, it clicked in her head. “You want me to find a rope and let you climb up?” She called down at the prince, who apparently had far superior hearing than her. He nodded, eyes shining with joy that she finally got the message. Lyanna leaned back. Did she really want to meet Rhaegar Targaryen, even though she was now married and it would be extremely improper? Absolutely, she decided. She was never a proper lady to begin with. She searched around the room until she found a coil of rope, for whatever reason she did not know. She hurriedly tied one end to the bedpost, before rushing to the window and throwing the other end down, nearly hitting the prince on his head.

“Here you go!” She called. Rhaegar nodded, grabbing the end of the rope and climbing vertically up the wall of the tower. After what seemed like forever, he finally heaved himself over the window sill. He leaned against the wall, panting slightly from the physical exertion and brushing his long, silver hair out of his eyes.

“Rhaegar! What are you doing here?” Lyanna asked. Rhaegar stood straight, moving forward and hesitantly reaching out for her hand. She gave him it, and he seized it firmly, staring deep into her grey eyes. “Lyanna, I can’t live without you. After the tourney, I had asked my Father for his permission to marry you, but he has grown old and paranoid. He fears that I only want to wed you for the power of House Stark, so I can usurp him. Before I could do anything else, I had received notice that you were to wed Baratheon.”

Lyanna gently withdrew her hand from his grasp, turning away from him. “It’s too late now, Rhaegar. I’ve wed him already.”

“The marriage has not yet been consummated. Lyanna, I love you. Please, Lyanna, give us a chance.” Rhaegar reached after her.

“Rhaegar, do you know what you are suggesting?” Lyanna whirled around. “You would directly disobey your father’s orders, which could be seen as an act of treason and spit in the face of a Great House. You are the crown prince, Rhaegar, the next King! This is madness!”

Rhaegar smiled wistfully. ”I know, Lyanna, and I have thought of what you have just said one-hundred fold. But what my heart is telling me is stronger than all of these things put together. You can call it madness, but no madness can overwhelm my love for you. Whenever I think of you, as a fearless knight, as a highborn lady, or just as you, I feel as if my very heart would explode in my chest. I would willingly abandon my throne, my wealth, even my life for you in a heartbeat. ” The prince knelt down in front of her, his purple eyes boring into her very soul. “Lyanna, I know you love me too. I know that we have a bond unlike anything we’ve seen before I know you cannot stand Baratheon, and this marriage will be a cage to you. Please, Lyanna, come with me, and we can be happy.”

“Gods, Rhaegar.” Lyanna fell to her knees, face to face with her love. “I must be mad as well.”

**Author's Note:**

> Amor Stultum - Foolish Love


End file.
